The Worst Day
by the-notsoevil-queeen
Summary: Regina's POV the day Henry runs away to find Emma. Regal Believer angst.


Days like today were agony; piles of paper work, endless meetings with bumbling fools who don't know the city ordinances or budget limits to save their pathetic lives, and skipping lunch to make it home in time to meet Henry after school left Regina with a raging ache in the back of her skull, and she pinched the bridge of her nose as she fumbled for her house key.

She unlocked her front door and took a deep, steady breath. She wanted to be in a good mood for Henry. She didn't want her stressful day to ruin their Friday evening plans, which was only ordering pizza and playing video games until their brains were mush. Still, her nights with Henry were precious, and she didn't want anything souring what little time they got together lately.

He'd been pushing her away for several weeks now, giving her cold glances when they ate breakfast together, answering her questions about school with short replies, brushing her off when she tried to hug him. It stung, and her heart ached for the little boy who would run into her arms when she greeted him after school, or would demand another bedtime story for a little extra time with her, but she could only blame herself for his attitude towards her these days.

She'd had the adoption talk with him, and to say it didn't go well would be an incredible understatement. He'd been devastated when she'd told him that she adopted him, that he wasn't his mother, not really, and it broke her heart as she watched the horror fill his eyes as he'd looked at her as if for the first time, as if he was seeing a monster, not the woman who raised him.

 _"You're not my mom,"_ he'd repeated over and over, and each time it felt like a blow to the gut. She'd told him that no, she was his mother, and she always would be, but he couldn't hear her, or refused to. He'd run from her, locking himself in his room for days, only leaving for school and then closing himself off again.

The pain, the rejection, was the worst she'd ever felt in her life. He was her whole world, and somehow it was crumbling in her fingers, no amounts of _please Henry_ 's and _I love you_ 's could do anything to repair the crack in their tiny family.

Then, one day, he'd broken his silence, had greeted her with a cold "hello" when he came down the stairs for breakfast, and didn't flinch when she tried to hug him goodbye as he ran out the door for his school bus. Something shifted in him dramatically, and she couldn't for the life of her figure out what it was. Though she wasn't one to complain, if she was slowly getting her little prince back, if he was learning to forgive her, she wasn't about to ask him anything that would set him off again.

So he'd agreed to spend some time with her, had promised her that Friday night could be Mom and Henry night, and the warmth in her heart from this small gesture was inextinguishable, and had pushed her through the endless day at work, knowing that she could come home and find some normalcy with her baby again.

She pushed through the front door, almost singing "Henry! I'm home!" as she toed out of her high heels and padded to the kitchen to drop her purse on the counter. "I hope you're ready to destroy me at Mario Kart because I am completely exhausted today."

Regina looked around the empty kitchen, surprised to not find him sitting at the table hunched over his homework as he always was after school. The house was quiet - no, it was silent. No TV turned on, no video games – that are not allowed before homework – playing on a low volume so he wouldn't get caught, no creaking of the floor as he walked to greet her. Nothing.

"Henry?" She raised her voice tentatively, keeping her tone light but projecting so he'd hear her from upstairs, should he be in his room. She waited, hearing only the pounding of her own heartbeat in her ears. She furrowed her brow as she made her way upstairs, thinking he may be reading in his room, or perhaps he took a nap when he got home.

She knocked on his bedroom door, said his name again, and waited for his approval for her to enter, or a refusal to see her, which might break her heart again. Still, there was no response, and she took the risk to crack his door open, peering inside as she said his name once more.

His room was empty, bed made this morning before he'd left for school, desk undisturbed by any new homework, no backpack sitting on his desk chair. He hadn't been here since this morning, and a knot formed in Regina's stomach as she paced her son's room, looking for any sign of his being here.

He must still be at school, she realized, pulled her cellphone out of her blazer's pocket and dialling his school's number. It rang a few times before the secretary answered, and Regina asked to speak to Ms. Blanchard immediately. The secretary put her on hold briefly, and Regina was greeted by the teacher's bright voice a few short seconds later.

"Ms. Mills, what can I do for you?" Ms. Blanchard sang from her end of the phone, making Regina roll her eyes, biting her tongue to resist commenting on the woman's never ending cheer.

"I just wanted to see when Henry would be home, and why you kept him after class."

Ms. Blanchard paused, and Regina's stomach rolled as the other woman stumbled over her words. "Uh - Henry… Henry's not here."

Regina's stomach dropped and her jaw slacked, fear prickling in the back of her mind in an instant.

"What the hell do you mean he's not there, where is he?!"

"He left an hour ago when class ended, he went home as far as I know," Ms. Blanchard rushed, slight panic taking over any joy in her voice.

"He – He's not home…" Regina raked her eyes around his room before hanging up the phone without so much as a goodbye and ran out to the hall, throwing herself down the stairs. She combed every room in the house, looking for any sign of Henry. A comic book, a piece of clothing, a dent in the couch, anything.

She muttered under her breath, _oh god no, oh god no,_ as she threw open every door, ran around the back yard, sprinted up to her own room, crashing through the door and smashing her hip into her vanity, cursing loudly as pain shot through her torso and leg.

"HENRY!" She shrieked, ignoring her pain as she checked his room one last time. Maybe she missed something, maybe he was really here, maybe he wasn't gone. But her heart sank as she pushed through his door; everything was as it had been that morning, clean and tidy, organized just the way she expects it, no sign of her little boy anywhere. "Henry this isn't funny, where are you?!"

She ran down to the front hall and realized his shoes weren't in the closet, and his heavy jacket and scarf were missing from their hangers. He hadn't worn them today; it was warm for an October day in Maine, so he'd ditched the jacket for a light sweater that morning. But now they were gone. And so was his backpack. And so was he.

"No…" Her heart ached, burning in her chest and stinging behind her eyes. "No, no, no!" She dropped to her knees and threw everything she could grab out of the closet, tossing every pair of shoes, ripping every jacket from it's hanger, clawing at anything, praying that she'd move something and she'd find his jacket. Soon enough the closet was empty, and she slumped, her hands digging into the floor as her head dropped, hopelessness and terror flooding her mind. Her breathing was raged, almost sobbing, and for a moment she thought she was going to throw up.

Where would he go? Who would he go to? This didn't make sense, he was fine, they were going to be fine…

Without a second thought she got up and sprinted to the kitchen, grabbing her purse and her keys, threw on the closest pair of shoes that she could find in her mess, and raced to her car, not even bothering to lock the front door. Nothing of value was left in that house.

She sped the whole way to the sheriff's station, parked her car crooked in two spots instead of one (not that it mattered, no one was ever there apart from herself and those in the sheriff's department), and threw herself through the front doors. She barely acknowledged anything passing her, blinded by her fear and desperation.

Regina ran to Graham's office, crashing into him as he was walking out the door, and almost tripped over her high heels if he hadn't caught her. She gripped his jacket and collapsed her weight onto him, letting him hold her up as she clung to him, unable to stand her pain any longer.

"G-Graham you have to help me! Henry's missing you have to find him please oh god I don't know where he went he- he-"

"Regina! Breathe!" Graham grabbed her arms and held her away from him, steading her on her feet while he looked deep into her panicked, tear filled eyes. She was shaking in his grip, her eyes bouncing in every direction, not looking at him directly, her lips trembling as words stuck on her tongue. He placed a hand on the side of her face, rubbing his thumb along her trembling cheek to try to get her to focus on him. "Breathe, and tell me what happened."

Her throat tightened and hot tears spilled down her cheeks, the reality of her situation weighing in her chest, trying to pull every piece of her to the cold floor. A flood of grief released from her and she chocked and sobbed, forcing her words out between desperate gasps for air.

"Henry – h- he ran away… he's g-gone."

Graham's face filled with shock only briefly before setting into something resembling a professional sheriff, and not the part time lover of the woman trembling and gasping before him. "Where would he go?"

Regina shook her head slowly, hiccupping as she fought to speak over her tears. "H-he has no where to go. I… I don't know where he is."

"Does he have friends? Other family?"

"I'm all he has!" She raised her voice, her fear sounding more like anger than she meant, and her hands started to shake violently against Graham's chest. She breathed deeply, attempting to reign in her emotions if only for a minute. She could collapse once Graham left to find him. "There's no where he would go. He could be anywhere! What if he's alone in the streets? What if…"

Her voice trailed off as her eyes widen, her face falling and all her air leaving her lungs. No. _No no no no._

"What if he left Storybrooke?" Regina breathed, barely a whisper, as she clenched her fingers in Graham's jacket, her tears slowing as her panic returned, replacing her agony for a moment. "We can't find him if he left town Graham! What are we suppose to do we'll never get him back-"

"Regina, stop," Graham took her hands in his and squeezed them tightly, almost too tight, before pulling her into him, "We don't know if he left town, there's no need to jump to conclusions. I'll get the whole sheriff's department to look for him. We'll find him. I promise."

Regina nodded slowly, but she couldn't shake the dread and despair darkening her soul, stabbing at her heart, taking away all of the light in her life. Henry was gone, with no clue as to where he went, and she very well may have lost her little prince forever.

"I'm going to start at Archie's, if he hasn't seen Henry, maybe the boy told him where he would go, and then I'll search everywhere else until I find him." Graham leaned back and pressed his palms to her cheeks, swiping at the streaks of make-up running down her damp cheeks. "You, go home, and call me if you think of anywhere he might go."

His words barely registered as numbness slid over Regina, blocking her ears and blurring her eyes. The world felt empty and dark, and a familiar hollowness carved out her heart. Hopelessness, terror, despair, loneliness, these were not new feelings; by now they were old scars, now ripped open again to bleed her of everything she had left.

Graham hurried around her and grabbed his walkie-talkie to radio to the other officers in the area before grabbing his coat and rushing out the door. Regina stood alone for a moment, unable to move, without anywhere to go. She couldn't go home, Henry wasn't there, there was no point. So she had to find him. But how _could_ she find him? She didn't have anything to help her, unlike Graham who had knowledge of every inch of this town and an entire police force at his disposal.

Regina was… just Regina, she'd never felt more useless in her entire life, and she scoffed aloud at the idea. She may be the mayor, but that didn't offer her any inside tips on where her 10-year-old son might run away to, and she certainly didn't have any friends to go to for help or comfort. If she were the Queen she could command entire armies to help her, could use her magic to poof herself around town or –

That was it. _Magic_. Regina gasped and sprinted for the door, throwing herself in her car and pulling out of the parking lot so fast she didn't bother to buckle her seatbelt. She flew down the empty streets, turning corners by memory alone as her mind fell blank. This was her only hope, her last chance, but as she raced for her vault, she found that clinging to this glimmer of hope seemed impossible, just out of reach, and no matter how hard she tried to believe, her heart continued to fill with darkness.

:::

Pushing the large coffin that sealed her crypt had never felt so strenuous before now, when she was so desperate to get inside. Regina almost tripped down the stairs, catching herself on the cold stone walls, and walked into her vault frantic and, frankly, a little lost. She hadn't been down there in years, and was unsure where to look first.

She threw open the first large case she could find, quickly pulling out bottle after bottle, only half reading every label before tucking them back into their place. Every new box she searched her hands grew more hurried, clumsier, before they started shaking too much to get anything back into its proper place. Finally she started throwing anything she didn't need, some bottles smashing against the floor or the wall.

Regina muttered under her breathe, _come on, come on, it has to be somewhere, there has to be something_ , and her desperation started clouding her vision, her eyes growing misty as each vial she needed turned up empty or void of any magic. She just needed a locator spell, nothing fancy, just basic enough to point her in Henry's direction. But, as she reached her final case, fed up and boiling with fear and rage, she tipped the whole case upside down and emptied it's contents of the floor at her feet.

She dropped to her knees, raking her hands along any once magical item in front of her, and she found nothing.

She had no magic left. Nothing to save the only thing she cared about, nothing to stop the crumbling of her only source of happiness, her only reason to live. She had nothing.

Regina leaned back, resting her weight on her legs tucked beneath her, and her voice shook as she breathed a soft " _no."_ This couldn't be happening. She couldn't have _nothing_. After everything she'd been through, after losing over and over, after giving herself to this dark magic in hopes of finding some moment of happiness, of victory just once in her life, she was left with nothing.

Her breathing became erratic, in and out, faster and faster, and her tears blinded her, sobs racking her body as she crumpled to the floor. She hugged herself as she let her misery win, let her tears stain the icy floor and her cries echo through the low ceiling of her vault.

This is the land without magic after all, and love is the most powerful of all magic. It seemed only fitting that she should lose it.

:::

Regina sat on the floor of her living room, leaning her back against the base of the couch while she nursed her second large glass of whiskey – well, it had been large, it was dwindling close to empty now, though she couldn't find the strength to lift herself to her feet and refill it.

Tears flowed silently down her cheeks and her breath came out low and shallow. She stared into the dead air in front of her, succumbing to the numbness that had pushed its way into her heart. She sunk deeper and deeper walling off her heart from any feeling, no hope, no love, no anger, no fear, just nothing.

Graham walked up beside her, the echo of his boots sounding much louder in the empty house, and he dropped onto the floor next to her rather gracelessly, wiggling his body to get comfortable on the hard wood underneath him. Regina didn't acknowledge him, and instead continued to stare glassy-eyed in front of her, slugging back the last mouth full of whiskey before placing the empty glass on the floor between their thighs.

"I know we've never been the... cuddling sort, but…" Graham's voice trailed off when Regina didn't respond, and he carefully draped his arm over her shoulders. She didn't flinch, and didn't pull away, so he pulled her into him, tucking her head into the crook of his neck and pressing his cheek to her hair. She might have enjoyed the contact, as she wasn't used to this kind of affection from anyone but Henry, but her heart felt like stone, cold and hard and weighing her down, and she simply couldn't feel anything.

Regina couldn't tell how long they sat pressed together, but it was long enough that her back and rear started to ache from her uncomfortable position. It wasn't hard for her to decide to ignore her discomfort; the pain in her body was incomparable to the pain in her heart. It wasn't until Graham tried to speak again, to whisper "We'll find him, Regina" that she pushed off the floor, groaning as her knees cracked on her motion upwards. She snatched her glass off the ground and stepped over to her small bar, filling her glass almost to the brim and taking a long pull before placing the drink on the bar and bracing her hands on the counter, clenching her fingers until her knuckles turned white.

She couldn't think, every emotion felt like a jumbled mess, and no words made any sense to her. Nothing made sense, not without Henry.

Taking another long drink she turned to face Graham again, her eyes dropping to his place on her living room floor while she swirled her finger along the rim of her glass. Regina stood there, fiddling with her glass idly, when she heard the distinct closing of a car door in her front yard. And then another. Voices were audible just outside the front door, and Regina's eye's widened at Graham as her grip on her glass loosened, letting it fall and shatter on the wood floor.

She rushed to the front of the house, throwing the door open with all of her strength, and his name was falling out of her mouth before she could properly see him. He looked just as he had that morning, his chestnut hair a little windswept, his cheeks pink from the bite of the chilly fall wind, his eyes dark and sad, his posture rigid but also slumped, as if he was defeated.

It wasn't until after she'd thrown her arms around his neck, frantically asked him where he'd been, and he'd pushed himself out of her embrace, before she noticed the woman standing beside her. She had Henry's nose, and his chin, and her hair was as fine as his, though long and a bright blonde. She smiled meekly at Regina, and she noticed that she had his smile too.

:::

"Henry," Regina said, her voice rough from either exhaustion or misery, and she knocked gently on her son's bedroom door. As usual, she got no response, and for a moment she considered letting anger take over her agony. She should be furious with him, running away to Boston to find his birth mother, letting her think the worst, though she supposed in one way, this was the worst. Her son left her to find the woman who abandoned him, so she could take him away from her. There were only few things worse than this.

In the end, she found she couldn't be angry with him, not tonight. Not when she had been so close to losing him forever, when she had lay on the floor of her vault and thought that she'd never see her little prince again. He was home, and he was safe, and for now that was enough to calm the rage that burned in her gut.

"Henry, please baby, just talk to me," Regina tried again, her only response a slight shuffling of blankets behind his door. "I'm not mad at you," she said softly, pushing her voice to sound as loving and forgiving as it ever had. Still, she got nothing, and her heart sank as she rested her forehead on the door, digging her fingernails into the painted wood as the pain in her chest flooded her eyes with fresh tears.

Her knees gave out and she slid to the floor, biting her bottom lip to hold back the sobs that threatened to fall from her lips. She wouldn't let Henry hear her crying, not when she was trying to convince him that everything was okay. Still, her heart pinched in her chest, the pain radiating through her body, and she longed to rip the damn thing out, to let herself fall into an emotionless void instead of sitting through this torture for another minute.

"I thought I lost you," Regina whispered, low enough that he couldn't hear her through the door. But maybe she did lose him; maybe she had always been destined to lose him.


End file.
